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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26983168">Whumptober 2020 - No.11 Psych 101</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jakkuor/pseuds/Jakkuor'>Jakkuor</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons &amp; Dragons (Roleplaying Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Intrusive Thoughts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:29:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26983168</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jakkuor/pseuds/Jakkuor</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020 [11]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948606</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Whumptober 2020 - No.11 Psych 101</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Kassandra’s always had a temper. Lately, though, it’s gotten worse. Rage always seems to be boiling in the pit of her stomach; a pile of paper and logs doused in oil, just waiting for a match to light it. She’s tried to throw herself into her drills, tried to take out her anger on the training dummies. Nothing seems to work though, and she keeps getting into fights with the other trainees. She’s even snapped at Taliss a couple times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s not even the worst of it. The worst part is how often she has the urge to </span>
  <em>
    <span>hurt </span>
  </em>
  <span>the people around her. She wants to hunt them, tear them limb from limb, taste their </span>
  <em>
    <span>blood. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s horrible. She’s never wanted to hurt others. She’s becoming a knight to learn how to </span>
  <em>
    <span>protect </span>
  </em>
  <span>people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, deep down, every time she meets someone’s gaze, she gets a strange hunger that she just can’t seem to satiate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s affecting her sleep, too. It takes forever for her to fall asleep and then, if she’s able to, she’s plagued by nightmares. Nightmares of rushing through towns and slaughtering people and animals, or of the werewolf attack. She’s woken up screaming a few times, to the chagrin of her dormmates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t know what to do about all of it. Ivory told her that there would be side effects of the lycanthropy and that she’d get used to them, but it’s starting to take a toll on her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s another sleepless night. She’s pacing the dormitory, acutely aware of every little sound her fellow knights-in-training make. And </span>
  <em>
    <span>painfully </span>
  </em>
  <span>aware of how vulnerable they are. How easy would it be to sink her claws into their-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looks down at her shaking hands. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hands. </span>
  </em>
  <span>No claws. Just hands. She swallows hard and glances at the door. She needs to be elsewhere. Anywhere is better than here right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She doesn’t remember heading to the kitchens. She doesn’t remember heading down the steps or even leaving the dormitory. She runs a hand through her hair; is a symptom of lycanthropy losing your damn mind? Why is she even in the kitchen?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Actually… Maybe this is the best place to be. She can grab a late night snack and try to keep her mind off things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Footsteps approaching from down the hall nearly make her jump out of her skin. Who else would be up this late? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door opens to reveal Ivory, whose eyes go wide at the sight of her. The cleric presses a hand to her chest, “Kassandra! Almost gave me a heart attack there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Kass rubs at the back of her neck sheepishly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’ve things been? Has your shoulder been giving you any trouble?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It gets a little sore sometimes, but it’s mostly okay.” She dodges the other question; that’s a can of worms she doesn’t want to open right now. She’s pretty sure she looks about as shitty as she feels too. “You’re up late.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ivory waves a hand dismissively, “Just having some trouble sleeping. Safe to assume the same for you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, something like that…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have just the thing for you, then! Why don’t you have a seat while I get it ready?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kassandra pulls out one of the wooden chairs and sits, absently bouncing her leg as she waits. The kitchen has a million and one different scents; herbs and spices, fruits, pastries, and so much more. Her gaze drifts to a door on the far side of the room - a storage room that’s been enchanted to stay cool to keep meat fresh. She knows exactly what is behind that door from a single sniff: poultry, beef, goat, venison. Delicious, bloody meat. She grips the edge of the table tight, clenching her jaw. She does </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>need to be eating raw meat in the middle of the night. She’s not even that hungry. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But imagine how much you could have…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here you are!” Ivory sets a mug on the table, then pulls out a chair of her own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kass cups her hands around it, it’s warm and smells nice - cinnamon and honey in milk. “Thank you,” she says quietly after having a taste. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s an old family recipe. Helps me get to sleep on those rough nights.” She smiles, taking a long sip. She rests her elbows on the table, leaning her chin on one hand. “Are you sure you’re alright, Kassandra? You don’t look very well.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…” She takes another sip of the milk to prolong answering. “I’m just… getting used to things still. It’s weird being able to hear and smell so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants </span>
  </em>
  <span>to tell Ivory what’s going on. But how can she? How could she just drop the fact that she occasionally - almost on a daily basis, at this point - wants to slaughter the people around her? She doesn’t know how to even say it without it sounding horrible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s understandable. There are… a lot of changes that you’ll have to deal with. If you ever need to talk to someone, you know that Taliss and I are always here, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah! Yeah, of course. I know that,” she answers quickly, too quickly, but Ivory doesn’t press it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kassandra practically chugs the rest of her milk, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She’d rather be alone in her bunk than try and talk this out, even with Ivory. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. For the milk, and the chat. I’m gonna try and get some sleep.” She rises to her feet and pushes in her chair, reaching for the mug so she can wash it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a problem, dear. And don’t worry about the mug, I’ll get it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay. Thanks, again. G’night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kass heads back to her dorm, kicking herself the entire time. She could’ve said something. Ivory might’ve known what to do about it. She </span>
  <em>
    <span>should’ve </span>
  </em>
  <span>said something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And when she lies back down in her bunk and the thoughts start to creep back in, she can only blame herself for not having the guts to speak up about it.</span>
</p>
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